Page 8 of Love to Defy You
Every morning, Alek and I sleep in late—and fuck—before we start our day. At every Kurochkin property we stay in, the staff prepare elaborate meals for us. The foods vary depending on which country we’re in, but here in Saint-Tropez, the dining room table is covered in pastry trays, colorful fruit bowls, and small jars of butter and jam. Carafes of coffee and juice are at my disposal, and I usually have three different beverage glasses going at once.
“I swear I’ve gained ten pounds this past year.” I glance down and squeeze my stomach at the table.
Alek glances up from his newspaper and smirks. “I love your curves.”
To be fair, I was a scrawny twig when we first met. After my mother got sick, I often forgot to eat because I was so busy taking care of her, and after she died, I didn’t have any appetite. Food tasted like charcoal in my mouth, and I found zero joy in eating.
I have a sneaky suspicion that Alek is pushing food onto me purposefully to gauge my emotional state. Or maybe this is just the happy weight they talk about when people fall in love.
After taking a large bite of my croissant, I turn back to my book and continue to read. Alek and I spend our mornings in a comfortable silence at the table, with him reading his newspaper and me engrossed in my latest smutty romance book. It’s like we’re an old married couple, and I love playing house with him.
My afternoons are usually spent poring over study guides, but after taking my test last month, I’ve enjoyed some free time to explore other pursuits, like sex. Lots and lots of sex.
But in between the intimacy, I like to catch up on reading whichever book Prisha and I have chosen for our weekly book club. We met because both of our fathers are ambassadors to Andarusia, but what really bonded Prisha Agrawal and me was our mutual love of romance novels. Well, that and hiding out from Alek and the Aristocrats in the janitor’s closet at school.
Even though we only met last year, our friendship has withstood the long distance. Before I left Andarusia, we made a promise to each other to videochat every Sunday, and I’ve never missed a single call. She graduated the President’s Academy of Olininburg last month, so we’ve both had more time to read during the summer holiday.
One of the housekeepers strolls into the dining room with a silver tray. “Voici votre courrier, monsieur Kurochkin.”
“Ah,merci.“ Alek picks up the pile of mail from the tray and starts to sort through it.
The housekeeper approaches me next and offers the tray. “And for you,madamoiselle.”
I look up from my book, my mouth stuffed with bread, and swallow. “For me?” My brows knit together, but when she lowers the tray, I lift off a white packet with my name on it. “Oh. Oh, my God.”
Alek glances up with a sharp look. “What’s wrong?”
With trembling hands, I hold the packet and stare at the return address—Weltner College in Switzerland. “It’s either an acceptance or rejection letter from Zurich.”
He folds the newspaper and sets it aside. “It’s too thick to be a rejection letter. Open it.”
Weltner College is an elite private university in Switzerland, and it’s considered by many to be the Harvard of Europe. Many elite European families send their children there, and Alek has already been accepted.
I just don’t know if I’ll be attending Zurich as a student or his live-in girlfriend.
“I can’t.” I shove the packet into his hands. “You open it.”
When he accepts the packet from me, he smirks.
“I’m glad you find this amusing,” I snap.
Using his letter opener, he slices the flap open neatly and slides out the papers inside.
My fists are clenched so hard, my nails leave painful indents in my palm. Until I know what’s inside that envelope, I won’t be able to breathe.
I didn’t realize how badly I want this. It was always my dream to go to an Ivy League school, but after Mom got sick, my college vision board became a forgotten craft project collecting dust in my bedroom.
But this is my second chance, and I spent the entire year studying my ass off for the ACT to get in.
Alek clears his throat and begins to read the letter aloud. “‘Dear Willow, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Weltner College.’”
“Fuck yeah!” I lurch from my seat with a high-pitched squeal and wrap my arms around his neck from behind. With a quick scan over his shoulder, I read the first line of the letter once, then again until it sinks in. “I can’t believe it!”
Alek sets the letter down and stands up to pull me in for a proper hug. “I knew you’d get in. I’m so proud of you,malishka.”
Before I can beam up at him, he descends upon my mouth, capturing it in a fervent kiss. It takes me by surprise, and I have to grab his shoulders to keep from bowling over.
He’s proud. I’ve somehow managed to make Aleksandr Kurochkin—a former “prince” of Andarusia and the world’s brightest student—proud... ofme.
